


Give Me A Moment to Dream

by by_veidt



Category: The Mummy, The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy Series
Genre: Alternate Ending, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Groping, Kissing, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Oral Sex, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/by_veidt/pseuds/by_veidt
Summary: Rick and Ardeth have a relationship. Alt Ending?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bananimosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananimosity/gifts).



> Written for bananimosity; was supposed to give it to him ages ago and it still isn't done. I'll add to it; it's also not fully edited, but it's Christmas, so here we go.

The heavy base of the tumbler landed hard on the marble tabletop, burbon soon to chase it, but impeded by the glass walls. O'Connel lifted the glass to the dark featured man adjacet to him. "No, thank you," Ardeth responded, eyeing the glass with a mild aggitation at the man's religeous ignorance and his flippant and haughty demeanor considering the events that had just fell upon them in Hamunaptra. "I still don't think you understand the gravity of what I am trying to explain to you."  
"Oh, no, I understand," the American responded before a sip, "That's why I'm getting the hell out of here as soon as possible."  
"You don't seem to be making a particuarly expedious attempt."  
O'Conel grinned briefly, "Well, I made a pretty good dent in 'im."  
"You didn't."  
"Didn't what?"  
"Impede him." Ardeth's eyes were dark, and he seemed to be looking at nothing in the distance. His attention turned to the window, standing cautiously.  
"I guess I'll go pack then," he replied, faciciously enough to be noticed.  
Ardeth turned towards him after a beat, recoiling slightly as his shoulder grazed O'Connel's chest. "There's nothing there," O'Connel said lowly, turning towards the other. The medite had a low gaze at him, eyes working over every detail on the American's face. There was a long pause while O'Connel watched him examine him. "I don't think I've seen you smile." O'Connel interjected with a playful indignance.  
"There is nothing to smile about." His pupils were large and O'Connel noticed; something he had to learn to notice over here, but this situation led itself to ambiguity. He chuckled for a quick moment and stepped away, picking up his drink and heading for the door.  
"Why were you in prison?" Ardeth called as the other opened the door. He turned back and grinned, leaving the room with a solid bang. 

\------

O'connel kicked the door closed behind him, closing in on the black clad man before him. Ardeth's heart was pounding and he could feel the fear in his eyes as the other man approached—he feared no man; damnation, however.... Strong hands held his jaw as their lips sealed against each other, hurried fingers threading into his raven hair. O'Connel walked him backwards until he ran up against the edge of the bed, both almost losing their balance. O'Connel's mouth burned its way down the other's neck, hands digging under the layers of fabric. "You wear too much," O'Connel growled against him, hands pressing and squeezing the slightly cool flesh beneath them.  
"You are just too impatient." He pushed O'Connel back and lifted up a piece of fabric to unfasten his belt, hands hesitating briefly over the buckle before it came loose. He dropped the belt and shrugged his shirt off, the fabric hitting the floor with an audible thud. He looked up to see O'Connel leeing at him with a stupid half grin on his face. He stared for a moment at the other's taught skin. It was so delicate and smoothe, like cream in coffee, the stark contrast of his hair more apparent, and it was selfish of him to keep it from him. O'Connel grabbed him around the ribs as Ardeth rose his hands defnesively, left hand smearing away the piercing black stain of ancient scripture, mouth and teeth on his collarbone. And it was enough to throw him off balance, both falling onto the bed as Ardeth grabbed at the other's shirt in a futile attempt to catch himself. O'Connel landed elbows first on either side of him. "Someone's eager," he teased, tongue drawing slowly over one of the dusky nipple beneath him. A quick gasp followed and Rick found himself hovering far above the other, solid arms and a firm grasp holding him up and away.  
"I don't think I can do this," Ardeth breathed, heart in his throat. O'Connel lowered a bit as the other let him support himself, gently taking a bronze hand in his and kissing it gently.  
"Whatever you like," Rick smiled against the palm on his mouth. "I think I've been soured by Americans" He sat back, but his shirt was snagged in the other's grasp.  
"Maybe just slower."  
"You don't have to," he reached to remove the hand only to be apprehaneded and pulled down onto the man.  
"I am aware. You just startled me." The lie was obvious in his tone, but neither needed to speak on it.  
"You got me so excited; how could I wait?"  
"Try to restrain yourself." His hands pushed up under the off-white linen, exploring the topography of O'Connel's abdomen.  
"Was that sarcasm?" he smiled. "Are you being sarcastic?" O'Connel nipped at him before he could answer, Ardeth's fingertips pressing against the other's skin. Teeth turned to full lips and tongue, caressing sheened skin while an idle hand thumbed over raised flesh. A quiet moan followed, gently trembling hands snaking down O'Connel's hips and around under his waistline.  
Careful lips replaced a rough thumbpad, tongue delicately tracing concentric circles around the excited flesh. A stifled moan and tightening grip encouraging his action. Ardeth's mind raced with the gnawing lust that left bite marks in his cultural guilt, apprehension constantly nagging him until it was dispelled like a shadown by the light of O'Connel's advances. A firm hand gave an equally firm squeeze to Ardeth's nearly hard cock laid just below the surface of his cotton pants. His hips cantered up slightly, but enough for O'Connel to notice, just as easily as he felt the hand slide up his back and pull him just slightly down.  
"I guess it's been a while," Rick teased as he tried to make this less of an intellectual endeavor than his counter was; if only for his sake. And he could see the fervor in Ardeth's pupil blackened eyes—he just needed his body to overwhelm his brain, if only for the evening. He wanted to see this viciously sexual panther Ardeth supressed with all of his care and devotion before the animal went extinct entirely. O'Connel's fingertips traced up and down the shaft, blood pusing under his touch, and he could hear the near delicated hitching in the other man's breath as he did. Ardeth was still, save for the rise and fall of his chest, and O'Connel watched him studiously, waiting for that lycanthropic transformation that he longed to drag out of this man.  
A sharp whistle and burst of wind came clamoring through the window, startling both men into another level of hypertension, eyes focused on the small balcony.  
"Well, that's a mood killer," O'Connell droned, sitting back as Ardeth almost sat up through him.  
"He's here." He stood, but was apprehended by a hand on his arm.  
"I'll get Evie. You, put on a shirt," 'Connel ordered, leaving just as quickly as he spoke, Ardeth's brow furrowing slightly.  


\-------

Ardeth felt himself bounce as he hit the bed. The comforter fluffing up next to him and a small cloud of unavoidable dust. “Round two.” O'Connell's hands were quick to find his skin, cupping up along his sides as he kneeled over him; predatory, and Ardeth could see it in his shoulders. That restrained posessiveness that intimidated him, and he laughed at himself. They almost died fighting a thousands year old revenant and this man intimidated him. The American soon has his face buried in the man's neck, taking in a deep breath, the horror and fear that had been his life for days beginning to melt into bed beneath him. And it overwhelmed him for a moment; the gravity of their shared experience and how close he came to losing both of them. He took in another breath in a vain attempt to maintain his composure, but the quavering of his exasperated and trying sigh broke him down. And for a moment he hated himself for it. He laughed out what would have been a sob, falling onto the bed next to the other, frame shifting.  
They both laid still for a moment, a brief chuckle from Ardeth breaking the silence and O'Connel couldn't help but laugh again, hands rubbing up and back down his face as if he could wipe away his grief. “I just need a minute.”

Ardeth rolled onto his side and against O'Connel, hand hesitantly settling on Rick's chest.”How about sleep instead?”

“Yeah. That's fine,” he almost whispered, taking in another shaky breath as he pulled the medite close to him. He exhaled into the coal mane, eyes settling on the door before they closed. 

\------- 

Rick woke with a jolt to the other looming over him, hand cradling his neck as he repeated his name. His hand grabbed at Ardeth's wrist, swallowing hard as he realized he was panting, heart pounding, and a daunting sensation running his brain into overdrive. O'Connel looked around the room and back up to Ardeth who was still watching him with as worried an expression as he could manage. “I didn't miss getting laid, did I?”

Ardeth's expression flattened. “I hope that is not what I am supposed to be looking forward to.” O'Connel took in another deep breath, grip loosening as he smiled briefly at the response. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Yea, thanks.” He went to sit up, hand on his neck sliding to his chest and keeping him down. 

“You need to learn how to move past what happened.” Ardeth's voice was stern, but the conern wasn't lost on Rick.

“Thanks, Doc. 'cause I hadn't figured that one out.”

Ardeth leaned down with a gentle kiss to O'Connel's lips. He whispered something in Arabic against his lips, kissing his jaw. Rick felt his heart speed up again, wondering how Ardeth always smelled and tasted like roses. He always just ended up tasting like whiskey and smelling like gunpowder. He looked down as nimble fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. He could feel the slight tremble in the man's hands grow with each button, hands delicately resting on O'Connel's hips, eyes fixated on his belt.

They both jumped as the door flew open, loudly stopping itself against the wall. Jonathan stumbled in, stopping and straining to focus on the two. “What are you two doing in my room?” He said pointedly, but clearly drunk. 

“This is my room,” Rick replied with hidden annoyance, sitting up.

“So it is. Where is my room then?

“On the first floor.”

“Can't I just stay here?”

“No.” They both said simultaneously. 

“Well, fine. I didn't want to stay here anyway, with you boring...boring people.”

He turned, assessed the door frame for a moment and left with a door slam. 

“It's morning. How is he already that intoxicated?”

“Well, you know the English. Besides, I think his night may have only just ended, or it will if he ever makes it to his room.”

“Should we—“

“Naah.” O'Connel's arms rested on his shins, turning towards the medite with a tired smile. “Can't seem to win.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just want to have a normal, non-life-threatening or drunken idiot laden moment with you.”

Ardeth smiled softly at him. “But you are leaving.”

The words stung, and they weren't meant to, it was just a statement. But maybe they hurt because they were true. He was being a hypocrit. He chose his life, and it wasn't here. How could it be?

Ardeth turned Rick's face into a kiss. It was long and kind and full or sorrow and regret. He pulled back from O'Connel and gave one more pained smile before getting up. “Safe travels, my friend,” he said gently. And suddenly there was a world between them in the small room. O'Connel's heart sank, but he knew it wasn't fair to keep him. Ardeth was leaving because he needed to, and so did Rick. The door closed. Maybe he made a mistake.

\--------- 

Rick turned as a black clad figure landed through his open window. “You need to get out of here,” Ardeth demanded as he stood. 

“Nice to see you too.” He swallowed, looking the other man up and down. He hadn't changed at all; well, his hair was longer. And he was wearing—what was he wearing? He felt his heart speed up. Ardeth was in the room with him. And his new silver embroidered robes just begged to be ripped from that lithe form. How did he get more attractive?

“I'm serious, O'Connel. You and your family need to leave now.” Ardeth stopped, apprehended by his shoulders as Rick crushed his mouth against the other's. 

“God, I've missed you.”

“Not now.” The medite shoved him back, turning towards the door before slipping back out through the window. 

\-----------

Alex fell into the dark robes, clinging to them as he sobbed against Ardeth. He rest a hand on the boy's shoulder, holding him against his leg. He looked up to meet Jonathan's eyes, body barely held up against the table where Evelyn's body lay lifeless. “Why didn't it work? Evy... please come back.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Evy...” He stroked her face before he broke down, collpasing near the alter.

Cat-like footsteps decended the stairs. Her face was cruel and vindictive and amused. She knew there was no bringing her back, but she wanted to see them, feed on their pain. 

Ardeth took in a slow breath, leaning down and laying a kiss on the top of Alex's head, before pushing him back and behind him. He drew his sword and squared up with her. And for the first time in a long time he would enjoy this kill. She smiled and turned, running up the stairs. He gave chase. 

He could hear the pounding of thousands of feet on the ground and it matched his heart as he ran through the stone corridors and he prayed. Then there was silence. He slid to a stop outside the throne room, and he tried to process what he was looking at. Rick reached for him, name echoing in his body. And he didn't hesitate. He scrambled across the room, sliding into O'Connel's grip, arms wrapped around each other as he pulled him up onto the platform. The madjai stood and pulled Rick along behind him, stumbling out of the quaking room. They collided with Alex and Jonathan as they rounded a corner, all falling against a wall. “Where's Evy?” Rick tried to shout over the sound of the collpasing pyramid. 

“No time,” Ardeth urged, pushing them all forward.

“What do you mean no time!”

The look they shared was hard. And it conveyed everything Rick needed to know and never wanted to. 

“Come on!” Jonathan called to them from down the hall.

“I'm not leaving without her!” O'Connel shoved Ardeth back from him as he struggled to force him down the hall.

“You'll die in here with her? You'll leave us all like a selfish child?? Look at your son, O'Connel!” Rick's gaze settled on Alex who was clutched against Jonathan in the doorway to the temple. “You'd leave him alone?!”

“I'm sorry, Evy.”

 ------------

Ardeth and O'Connel sat across from eachother in the basket of the derigible. They were silent; Jonathan and Izzy argued. Alex stared off over the edge. Ardeth could feel the passing glances Rick would make towards him, but refused to look at him. His body ached from the fight with Anubis' army and heart ached more. He wanted to understand Rick's pain, but couldn't get past his own anger at O'Connell's flippancy of everything else. He knew he didn't mean it, but it seethed inside him. 

He heard the faint, agitated cry of his horse and stood, looking off to see the group of Madjai in the distance. “Take me over there,” he directed, interrupting Izzy as he indignantly yelled something at Jonathan. His eyes crossed Rick's briefly as he stepped towards the ladder. 

The aircraft decended, the horses spooking and settling.

“Please don't go. Don't leave me,” came Rick's quiet voice behind him. 

“I need to attend to my brothers.” His reponse was cold and indifferent, automated. And he felt Rick recoil. His heart sank, his love for the man bleeding into his fear and anger. He turned and took Rick's hand. “I will never leave you.” Rick's eyes closed. “Go home. Be with your son. Raise him to be strong.” He gave the hand a squeeze. “Like you.” He nodded to Jonathan and Izzy and met Alex's gaze. He tilted his head to beckon him and the boy complied. He knelt infront of him. “Take care of your father,” he whispered before kissing his forehead. Alex nodded slowly, silent.

He vaulted over the edge of the craft, taking the ladder down in long steps. He walked over to his horse and took her from the other warrior. He was up in the saddle by the time he looked up, the derigible twice as far away. He ran a fond hand over his mare and looked over his surviving bretheren. They offered a collective laugh. 

\----------- 

It had been six long months and the house seemed empty. He almost couldn't go home some days, but kept hearing Ardeth's voice in the trees and Evy's voice echoing down the hallways. Alex sounded like her more and more every day. The door closed heavy, Jonathan taking Alex to his football game. And again he was alone. He closed the door to his bedroom and sauntered over to the revolver on the dresser. He picked it up and felt it's weight. The chamber popped open. Six bullets. No game of Russian Roulette. He flipped it closed and set it down with a heavy breath, looking up at the ceiling in silent prayer. 

“Wise choice.”The deep voice startled O'Connell for only a fraction of a second before he was flooded with emotion. He turned toward the shadowed figure as he emerged. There was an eternity and no time at all between them, space and existence traversed as they crossed to each other. Their hands threaded into each other's embrace, lips sealed over eachother, and tears threatened to spill from O'Connell, but not this time; all of his grief and aguish burned away, heaven's warrior beheading his torment; rapturous and pure light.

Rick tugged at the fabric belts just under the Madjai's vestments, that haunting smell of roses filling his mind as he kissed and sucked at the other man's neck, hands clawing at O'Connell's shirt. He could feel Ardeth's pulse under his mouth, and for the first time in ages it felt so good to feel, and he was alive. The belts fell away from his form, robes shoved off of the darker man's shoulder, revealing that too perfect milk and tea skin and all of it's war hardened curves of flesh. 

The American took in a breath and reached for his revolver, taking aim at the lamp across the room, shooting out the light, Ardeth recoiling at the sound. The pistol hit the ground with a heaviness that was greater than it's mass and soon the medite found himself stumbling back towards the bed, falling over the edge and he couldn't help but think of how this ended the first few attempts. A soft rain of buttons pattered across the wooden floor as O'Connell ripped his shirt open and almost tore it off his body. And Ardeth felt that distant quell of fear, that tiger of a man waiting and ready to pounce, but he was mid leap already, and Ardeth would be his prey this time, a victim to his love and lust and it would eat him alive. And he couldn't wait for the first bite. 

And within his next breath O'Connell was over him, leg pressed hard between Ardeth's, mouth sucking at his collarbone, teeth breaking capillaries. His hands roamed and pinched at the too soft skin beneath him, earning him a squirm. And even if Ardeth wanted to protest, he couldn't. His voice was caught in his lungs, smothered by the throbbing pulse in his groin and the mouth pulling his breath shorter and shorter. And there was something so sinfully delicious to O'Connell about all of it; the man's quiet resistance, his pounding heart and quick breaths, a world of cultural sacrafice, and the stark black robes that pooled around him; an alter on which O'Connell would consume his sacrifice.

An unexepected grope of Ardeth's groin earned Rick a sharp inhale followed by an almost whimpering moan. The Madjai's nails drew lines across O'Connell's ribs as his hand palmed flat up the other's body and over his chest, thumbing across a chilled nipple. The medite's breath hitched slightly and O'Connell was reminded of how tender he was. His thigh pressed slowly into Ardeth's restrained hardness, the man arching up just as slowly, O'Connell laying a string of kisses and bites down the other's chest. His tongue lathed over the other nipple in a broad stroke, Ardeth pulling at his shoulders. Rick's hand found one of Ardeth's, guiding it to the bed, and then the other, pinning him against the sea of fabric as he teased his flesh. The Madjai pulled against his grip involuntarily, heat rising up his chest and into his cheeks. O'Connell's thigh pressed harder as he nipped at the dark skin, eliciting another soft noise, still confined by fear and uncertainty. His hands slid down the recumbent arms, and further down Ardeth's body as he navigated down to his wasitline. His fingers made quick work of the ties that remain, pulling the waist loose and sliding the fabric down enough to expose his straining cock. 

It happened fast enough that Ardeth didn't entirely follow the movement until the embarassment hit him and his heart skipped, body visibly tightening. Vulnerability was not a sensation he was familiar with anymore, but O'Connell's hand smoothing over his cock and resting on his upper thigh drew some of the tension from his body. “You're so beautiful,”O'Connell soothed, voice surprisingly tender and almost reminicent. And he was so beautiful. The shine of his raven curls haloed his concerned expression, lips parted for breath, hands delicately laid near his shoulders, pitch black fabric sucking in all of the light between them. His neck bloomed crimson marks while his chest rose and fell quickly, skin glistening in the ambient light of the city after dark cast through the window. His hips were sharp and a creamy contrast to the dark flush of his cock and darker still the nest of hair that gathered at the base and spilled up into a narrow path up to his navel.

Rick lowered himself, fingers resting over the curve of each hipbone, exhaling against his straining member, eyes finding him with a borderline panic and O'Connell realized the further he went the harder ne needed to work to keep Ardeth's mind out of this as much as possible. His tongue ran wet and hot up the underside of the eager flesh, body twisting against it, but he was ready for that, hands holding him steady. He repeated the gesture, slower, watching him, eyes fixated on each other's. He began his next stroke lower, ending it with taking the man into his mouth, a shudder chasing a low moan, hands finding Rick's shoulders. And O'Connell couldn't help but smile around him, drawing his tongue up slowly again. The fingers pressed harder against his shoulders, hips involuntarily bucking up, but Rick continued slowly, the frustration starting to claw it's way up through Ardeth as a small growl escaped. O'Connel paused, looking up to those dark and frantic eyes, pleading and desperate and their keeper didn't know why, and it made Rick's cock flush solid. But he could wait. 

He took him in again, drawing back up quicker, setting a moderate pace for himself, nails digging into his shoulders and he'd made a note to keep ahold of the medite's hands later in their evening. Rick sped up, a moan above him stifled by Ardeth's own hand, his staying power waning with each draw of tongue and plunge between those molten lips. And O'Connell felt that tell-tale quiver of the Madjai's flesh, hands braced firm against his hips as the man beneath him pulled up into a solid arc, hand firmly fixed against the back of O'Connell's neck, other sealed over his mouth as a hoarse cry tried to free itself from his lungs. Rick focused on not gagging, holding the other down as he came down his throat, looking up only as Ardeth's body settled back against the bed again. The Madjai's breath came in sharp, rasping noises, buffered by his parted fingers, staring, hyponotized, at the ceiling for moments. He closed his eyes as his breathing slowed, jolting as O'Connell's hand patted the side of his face. “Good boy.” Ardeth felt a flash of heat shoot up his neck into his face, eyes opened to a frigid glare directly in to O'Connell who just chuckled. “Knew that would bring you back.” Ardeth was fiery; nothing but fire sometimes. And that's one of the things Rick loved about him the most. And he certainly wasn't going to take a blow to his pride or sensabilities. 

He propped himself up on his elbows. “I am a holy warrior, not your pet.

“Not tonight. Tonight you're mine,” he replied with that too bright certainty in his voice that reminded Ardeth of when they first met. The darker man opened his mouth to protest, ensnared in a tongue filled kiss laced with his own taste. He made a noise against O'Connell to ensure he wasn't entirely correct to which O'Connell smiled to himself, pulling back with a lopsided grin. He cupped the medite's face, sliding his hand down his neck to his chest and down his body, watching Ardeth's head fall back. Rick palmed down further until his hand wrapped around the other's still mostly hard cock, giving him a playful squeeze, the other's chest pulling up in a quick breath. His hand slithered back up Ardeth's body before he leaned forward, savoring how exposed he was and how quick he could turn feral again, domesticated only under his touch and only barely. Which is why his next few movements were the most important. He scrounged around a bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle and uncapping it as he sat back. 

Ardeth wanted to trust him, deep in his heart, and with his life he did, but the longer he spent out of his touch the more he reevaluated what he had gotten himself into. There's a very good reason this kind of activity is forbidden, let alone with the partner he chose, and he could feel the burn still linger in the back of his mind; fire consuming him with every breath. 

His boots were pulled from his feet and he heard them hit the floor. He let out a tight breath and settled back onto the bed, tensing as a slick hand ran up and back down his still aching member, pulling a low moan from him. “For someone who's never done this before, you sure do make it look easy—well, you look easy.” Every time O'Connell spoke Ardeth could feel his face flush, and some indignance rise. He knew he was a traitor, he didn't need to be reminded, but he stayed quiet, which earned him another stroke. Maybe he was his pet; he certainly felt obedient. 

Fingers slid between his legs and he bucked up and farther into the retraint of his robes and his weight on them. He wanted to ask him what he thought he was doing, but he knew better. He knew, and it was one of the reasons he came here tonight, but convincing his body was another matter entirely. His heart was already in his throat and O'Connell just waited; patient, like a cobra. He slid himself back down towards O'Connell hesitantly, and laid back into the bed with a heavy breath, legs parted around where the American knelt, slid down until his pants held his legs tight against O'Connell's knees. He chanced a look down, a leering gaze settled on him and the words were heavy in the air but never spoken; his eyes averted, a horse broken. His cock twitched at the firm stroke Rick gave, heart in his throat with apprehension. 

“You wanna roll over for me?”

“(No),” he growled in arabic, complying anyway after a breif hesitation. There was a smug chuckle behind him as he settled onto his stomach, O'Connell pushing his robes further off to the side, a possessive hand running down the curve of the Madjai's back and over his ass. Rick swallowed as he grabbed at the smooth flesh, spreading him slightly, a weird excitement coming over him. The whole idea was so unsanctimonious and having this so starwalt Madjai under him with such salacious intentions made him obscenely hard. He reached for the bottle again, pouring more viscous liquid out along the cleft of Ardeth's ass, watching his lower back tense. He ran his fingertips down the wet line, pressing his middle finger into him, other hand moving to the center of his back to keep him pinned. The medite stayed relaxed under him, breathing into the comforter, heat spilling back up his neck and suddenly he felt like he was going to suffocate under his clothing. O'Connell pressed deeper and down, Ardeth's hips arching up with a muffled sound. He repeated the gesture, getting the same result. He pressed his index finger in with the next stroke, gliding further in. The medite's hips pushed back against him, a low moan spilling out from him, and O'Connell counted himself lucky he didn't come in his pants right then.


End file.
